Page 99 of Playing It Forward

He smiles up at me. “Don’t want my sprite getting any of those.”

“At least tell me you got sweet and sour chicken. It’s my favorite.”

“Sorry. Too high in sodium.”

I groan. “But I love sweet and sour chicken.”

He drops the bags on the counter and approaches me. He palms my cheeks. “You can have as much sweet and sour chicken as you want. Once our little mermaid is born.”

“You bet I will since the pregnancy police won’t be around.” I sound as if I’m joking, but it hurts knowing Nolan will be far away while I handle this pregnancy alone.

He leans over to touch his mouth to mine in a soft, brief kiss. “I’m going to be around more than you think.”

Is he serious? He’ll be around more? Dare I hope?

He kisses my nose before moving away to grab plates out of the cupboard. “Do you want water or ginger ale?”

I grimace. “Water. I’m sick to death of ginger ale.”

“I’ll buy you some lemon lime soda.”

I sigh. “You don’t have to buy me anything. I’m perfectly capable of buying my own drinks.”

“I know you are. I also know you’re growing our baby. I can’t help you with that. But I can make sure you’re taken care of.”

I melt. Of course, I do. To the rest of the world, he’s a big, bad football player. To me, he’s a fluffy teddy bear.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” I nod. He grins. “Thank you.”

“Are you thanking me for letting you take care of me?”

“Yep. Because I know how hard it is for you to let anyone take care of you.”

I have no response since I can’t deny his words. I concentrate on placing the food on the table while he brings plates and silverware and our drinks. I frown at his water.

“There’s beer in the fridge.”

“I’m not drinking beer when you can’t.”

“You can drink beer. I don’t mind. I bought the beer for you.”

“I’m good.” He kisses my nose before settling in a seat across from mine.

“What exactly do you do all day?” I ask once we’re digging into our food. “Besides throw a football and get interviewed?”

He chews for a moment before answering. “I'm basically the guy who decides where the ball goes. Before every play, I have to figure out what the defense is doing and then make a decision in about two seconds.”

My eyes widen. “Two seconds?”

“Usually less.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

He shrugs. “It’s what I do.”

“Why quarterback?”